Progression
by Dreamypastelle
Summary: When they reach home, she's going to reprimand him for picking on her sister; he'll provoke her in return, and then they'll be friends again. Friends, or whatever the hell their relationship was called before he became a complete arse. — Laxus/Mirajane. Oneshot.


**Progression**

**By Dreamypastelle**

_(A/N: Mainly romance with too many subgenres. Also inspired by the following songs: _Chosen One _by Smog (Bill Callahan), _Kimi Ga Iru Kara _by Shimokawa Mikuni_, Timelines _by Motion City Soundtrack, _Hello/Howareyou _by Hatsune Miku, and most importantly, _Wild Horses _by The Rolling Stones.)_

_(A/N#2: I didn't restrain myself from the drama llama, so beware! Oh, and don't be confused by the flow, just go with it.)_

**It's not a matter of time—it's just a matter of timing.**

* * *

_Laxus, X767_

After the death of his mother, he can think of nothing but the snow. Every morning, he visits her graveyard with his grandfather who usually leaves a bouquet of wildflowers on top of her name. During those trips, Laxus tries to memorise the patterns of the snowflakes landing on her headstone and he notices that each one of them is different. It has become his therapy, his way of making sure that the days exist and carry on.

Before he's completely aware of it, he has grown older (bigger, taller, stronger) but everyone else still thinks of him as a young boy. His father had implanted some sort of a miniscule glass ball underneath his right eye, and he hasn't been sick ever since. The crackling light runs within his veins and ignites into a multitude of sparks between his hands. _This magic is pretty neat_, he thinks to himself with a grin.

He tries it again and again until his fingers feel like burnt coals, but the scratches on his palms remind him of the snowflakes.

Laxus smiles even wider and runs off to tell his grandfather about his new magic.

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_Mirajane, X778_

For a moment, she imagines herself as a piece of the sky. The sky is deep and dark, perhaps maybe even endless. There is a void in her heart and it consumes her, slowly, like a growing flame. _Oh, look! A meteor is falling down_, and just like that, her tears begin to slide down her pale face.

This is what it feels like to be the new pillar of strength. It's all up to her now.

Mirajane clamps a cold hand to her mouth to keep her sobs from reaching the ears of her slumbering siblings. Though they're in the middle of nowhere, they are at peace, and knowing that her younger brother and sister are much more resilient to pain than they're supposed to be gives her the comfort which she could not find within herself.

She scrapes the tears away from her face and promises herself that this will be the last time she allows herself to cry.

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_Laxus, X778_

He strikes the eyes of the monster with his lightning, and its blood sprays down on him from its scalded sockets. Its wounded howl shakes him to his very core, but he's endured way too much pain for the past sixteen hours during the S-Class Promotion Trial to give up that easily.

The flecks of blood mix with the land and it reminds him of the wildflowers speckled with drops of snow. He swallows heavily and realises that he can't keep denying how haunted he still is by the loss of his mother and the excommunication of his father.

_Damn Grandpa...He didn't even give Pops a second chance. He'd better not regret his stupid decision_. His vision turns into a mixture of reds and violets, and an uncontrollable rage takes over his body.

Needless to say, the monster is much more than dead after Laxus dealt with it, and he will be trudging back to the guild with a new title (and a little less sympathy for himself). He can already predict the things his guildmates will say: _I expected no less from Master's grandson_..._Master will be so proud of you...I bet Master gave you some tips... _

He becomes unaware of the resentment starting to gnaw at his conscience.

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_Mirajane, X778_

The smell of beer and polished wood enters her nostrils, and for some strange reason, it reminds her of her past home. _But_ _this is our home now_, she muses, as she stares at the mess which is the guild hall. Some tables have upturned and a couple of barrels have been knocked over by some wild kids chasing each other. A terrified Lisanna grabs onto her purple skirt and hides behind her. Elfman shyly stands in front of them, waiting for her sister's decision.

"You think they have a kitchen somewhere?" says Mirajane to her younger lookalike, and said lookalike glances at her older brother before bursting into cheery giggles. Mirajane's smile grows at the sound of her sister's laughter, and she takes the hands of Lisanna and Elfman as they step into the hall.

A teenage boy with a pair of hideous-looking spiked headphones passes in front of them and raises an eyebrow at their presence. Mirajane sneers at him, her eyes travelling from his outrageously blond hair down to his vibrant orange eyes with a lightning-shaped scar running through one of them.

The intensity of his gaze reminds her of a not-so-distant night when the sky replaced her being. _Deep and dark_—her heart thumps within her ribcage and she clutches onto Lisanna's hand more tightly than she did a while ago, but she quickly realises that she's acting just a bit too ridiculous over a staring match, and she scoffs at the seemingly rude boy who did nothing to welcome her as she drags her confused siblings towards a dwarfish man sitting pleasantly on top of a table. _Maybe that dude over there knows where the Master is_, she thinks.

The teenage boy does not give her the slightest bit of attention in the following days, although his grandfather (_That little man with a jester hat is the freakin' guild master? No way!_) cheerfully greets her and tours her around the guild a bit too enthusiastically, as if she were someone he had been waiting for his entire life.

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_Laxus, X780_

He's already nineteen years old and he's wondering why he still hasn't gotten himself a girlfriend. Maybe it's because he doesn't give a damn about the implications of staying single and how it affects his reputation. _Screw my reputation, it's all about my being related to the old geezer anyways_, he scoffs to himself. Little does he want to admit that his reputation is starting to drive him mad.

Back in the desert, the morning temperature was boiling hot during the first trial of the S-Class exam. He was supposed to have stayed there until the whole exam had finished, but the heat made him want to ditch, and so he did. He backed up his rash decision by judging all of the chosen participants as unworthy—well, maybe except for Erza or that newbie Mirajane, who were both able to find their way through the maze and land a few hits on a great number of elusive creatures overlooked by the rest of the participants.

As for this moment, however, he's slightly regretting his decision as he trudges through the snowy pathways within Magnolia; it's winter here, contrary to the weather on that blasted desert, and he doesn't have enough layers of clothing on. _Forget about having a girlfriend—I need a darn coat._

He walks by a few kiosks and enters a few shops to look for a heavy coat whilst listening to some classic rock and roll music on his Sound Pod. He has never bothered to go leisure shopping before, but now that there's absolutely nothing else for him to do, he makes another rash decision: play around with his fashion sense to displease his grandfather. Maybe he'll start wearing outlandish yet fancy-looking clothes.

Laxus doesn't really count the minutes that pass by during his extravagant spending, but when the weight of the number of boxes containing folded pants and polo shirts plus this neat, black coat lined with fur becomes too much for him to carry, he enters the closest bar and dumps the boxes on the floor beside the counter.

"Give me some Stout," he tells the bartender as he sits down.

A couple of minutes later, he's halfway finished with the dark beer inside his tankard. A feeling of contentment rises to his throat. With his sharp hearing, he catches snippets of other people's conversations. He doesn't really give a crap about the Council, but for some reason, everyone else is making a big fuss over their decision to outlaw any form of Charm Magic.

He snorts into his beer. Only idiots would need to use manipulative magic in order to get somebody's affection; he knows he wouldn't do something absurd like that. He'd probably woo a girl in the traditional way—shower her with gifts and engage her in meaningful conversations. This train of thought makes him remember his earlier question to himself: Why on Earth Land does he still not have a girlfriend?

The doors creak, signalling the entrance of another person, and he puts down his tankard with a quick conclusion: _He does not have a girlfriend because he does not need one. End of story._

"Give me something non-alcoholic and make it quick," a familiar voice from his left side commands the bartender with a demanding tone.

Laxus frowns slightly and tries to identify the voice by slightly turning his head towards the speaker. He sees none other than Mirajane, still in her purple gothic getup with quite a number of bandages on her arms and legs. Shock is plastered all over his face upon seeing his underage, female guildmate in a bar when she was supposed to be in the desert.

Mirajane notices his stare and raises an eyebrow at him. "What are you looking at?"

His silent gaze is cut short by her rude question. "Aren't you supposed to be participating in the Promotion Trial?" he asks bluntly.

"Aren't you supposed to be one of the people officiating it?" she answers back.

Darn, she got him on this one. He doesn't say anything to her and chugs down the rest of his beer before ordering another one.

"Are you planning to get drunk or what? 'Cuz I'm not dragging your sorry arse back to the guild," she comments, sipping pointedly from a teacup (he would never know how a teacup could have ended up in a bar). Laxus had to admire the nerve of this girl, talking to him that way as if she didn't give a crap about who he was and how easily he could make her regret every word she was saying. Maybe she really didn't give a crap.

"Two beers won't get me drunk," he says simply, starting to appreciate her frank, tomboyish attitude. It's what he could consider as a breath of fresh air from all the plastic treatment he's been getting from everyone else who didn't know him very well.

"Whatever you say," she replies before putting her empty teacup on the counter and waltzing away to some other corner. His eyes don't follow her anymore, but he could still feel her presence inside the bar.

The karaoke machine near the wall suddenly plays a light yet melancholic pop ballad as someone begins to sing. This time, he already recognises the voice, but it doesn't prevent him from being utterly stunned again.

Mirajane is singing.

He turns away from the counter and his eyes rest on her slim back. She's not facing anyone or anything except for the karaoke machine, and she's pouring her heart out through the song. Her voice is soft, yet powerful and melodic, and it keeps him hooked for a few minutes.

_Perhaps I'm happy, or perhaps I'm not  
__It doesn't matter—the morning sun will rise fairly and cruelly  
__I'm already trying my best just to live  
__What else do you expect from me?_

What's even stranger is the fact that he feels as if the words alone came from his mouth. He's starting to think that maybe Mirajane has the same degree of inner conflicts as he does. He begins to approach her figure before he's even aware of it, and he plops down on the sofa nearest to the karaoke machine.

Mirajane hears this action and immediately stops. She spins around and looks him straight in the eye.

"I didn't think you'd be listening," she whispers, fairly mortified.

"I told you that two beers won't get me drunk," he mumbles deeply. He glances at her lips. "You sound good," he adds.

Mirajane shakes her head nervously as if she were scolding herself, and it makes him chuckle.

"Relax," he tells her, "We all need an outlet, don't we?"

He doesn't know where all of these words are coming from, but he doesn't stop them from being spoken out loud. Mirajane sighs reservedly before sitting beside him and she pushes his knee farther from hers.

"If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you. And it won't be just any murder; it will be brutal. I'll strangle you with those stupid Magic Headphones," she threatens him.

"My lips are sealed," he drawls with a bored tone as he closes his eyes and leans back on the sofa, wanting to hear her sing again. An idea pops into his mind. "I'll shut up about your secret singing craze if you sing another song. A happier one," he compromises.

"Fine, you pig," she grunts as she stands up again. He gives her a proud, one-sided smile; he suspects that her lack of further argument comes from her strong desire to sing, regardless of whoever is listening.

Laxus fiddles with the Magic Database attached to his belt, and going unnoticed by Mirajane, he starts recording. Mirajane chooses an acoustic cover of one of his all-time-favourite rock and roll songs, and it makes his heartbeat speed up a little more than he could control. Laxus nods to the music with his eyes closed, and when Mirajane finishes, he opens his eyes and cracks a grin at her.

He's completely dumbfounded when she suddenly begins to weep in front of him. He grips her arm and makes her sit down.

They talk for the next two hours about everything and nothing in particular. She admits that she was crushed when Erza was chosen to be the new S-Class mage even though she believed their efforts were equal at first. Laxus tells her that he left because of the heat, and because it gave him the chance to annoy the hell out of his grandfather. Mirajane forthrightly informs him that he'd still be a jerk whether or not he was related to that puny Master, and the way she said it made him chuckle.

He walks her back to the guild afterwards, and a part of him thinks they've become friends, but when she completely fails to show up in the bar after their first encounter or make an effort to talk to him openly in the guild, he doesn't hold on to hope anymore.

He resorts to listening to her version of the song on his Sound Pod whenever he's alone.

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_Mirajane, X781_

"Where's the salt?" she mumbles to herself as she opens various drawers and cabinets. She's acting all flustered, sneaking in the kitchen of the guild whilst the rest of the guild is partying in the hall and celebrating the success of this year's S-Class Mage Promotion Trial. She's dressed up in what she calls her cooking outfit, which is composed of a dainty, pink apron on top of her usual clothes and her fringe tied in a small ponytail above her hairline with the rest of her white tresses untied. A pot is on the stove, and a delectable aroma wafts from within it.

She pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. Until now, the feeling of being the new S-Class mage still hasn't sunk in. It's as if she's been waiting and preparing for this moment for a long time already, and now that it has happened, she has no idea what to do next.

Nevertheless, relief seeps through every pore in her body. It's only now that she can finally consider herself as someone strong enough to protect her family. She wouldn't have to bully too often and act threateningly to anyone who might hurt her siblings.

"Ah, found it!" she exclaims triumphantly. The salt shaker had been sitting on the countertop near the sink all this time, and she feels stupid for not having discovered it earlier.

"Found what?" a voice calls out to her, and in her surprise, she drops the salt shaker, but with lightning reflexes, an arm reaches out to grab it before it could have made contact with the floor.

Mirajane's eyes widen in shock as Laxus puts the salt shaker back on the countertop.

"You should close your mouth if you're not going to answer my question," he tells her with one eyebrow raised.

She blubbers in indignation—_How could I have been caught so quickly?_—before closing her mouth shut and glaring at Laxus.

She watches him look around the kitchen, inhale the palatable scent coming from the pot, and finally settle his gaze on her apron. When he tries to hide his snort, she steps on his foot angrily.

"Ow! What the hell, you demon!" he cries out in distress and pain, leaning against the sink with his right hand as he rubs his foot with the other hand.

"What are you doing here?" she seethes without facing him.

"Looking for some pepper. What are _you_ doing here? Though I think the answer's pretty obvious," he taunts her, and she's about to face him and step on his other foot when he puts a hand on her shoulder.

"You're now an S-Class mage," he drops his voice abruptly.

She stiffens, and the hand withdraws from her shoulder.

"I was teasing Lisanna, y'know, about you being more terrifying now that you're S-Class," he nonchalantly tells her while withdrawing a pepper shaker from one of the cabinets. Mirajane listens absorbedly to every rare word coming from his mouth.

"She told me that you're actually a nice person, and I laughed at her because I thought she was joking."

Mirajane socks him in the gut with her elbow. Hearing him splutter makes her smirk victoriously and she turns to face him at last.

"Don't tease my siblings or else you'll get more than that," she smiles evilly at him.

Laxus wheezes, clutching his faintly bruised abdomen, and stares hard at her. Mirajane frowns at the hasty change in his demeanour. _Had I managed to anger him? _she questions herself.

"You're really protective of your brother and sister, aren't you?" he tells her slowly, emphasising every word. Stunned at his scrutiny, she swallows in both anticipation and trepidation over his next comments.

"And Lisanna's right, I guess. From what I've noticed, you _are _nice, but only to them," he continues, and his words affect her more than she expected them to, and she doesn't understand why.

She's momentarily at a loss for words, and in her silence, Laxus continues to talk.

"So, was that singing thing at the bar last year just a one-time gig?"

Mirajane looks at him with bewilderment in her eyes. "Y-you remembered that?!"

He shrugs at her, an unreadable look on his face as he rubs the pepper shaker with his thumb. Mirajane can't help but feel both awed and embarrassed upon hearing the revelatory words of Laxus, who always seemed so insouciant towards his guildmates (except for the members of his exclusive team).

The air feels heavy and Mirajane bites her lip, wondering what he might say next. She glances at the separate counter in the middle of the kitchen, its surface gleaming, and releases a high-pitched scream when a cockroach unexpectedly dashes across it.

"What on Earth Land—" Laxus stammers in confusion as Mirajane clutches his black coat tightly and presses her frame to his back. She covers her face with his coat and incessantly begs him to kill the stupid insect.

"Calm down, Mirajane!" he barks at her, and when she opens her eyes, she sees Laxus zap the cockroach with his lightning. It bursts into yellow flames for a split second and disintegrates into dust. She sniffs, greatly relieved, and looks at the man she was holding onto not a minute ago.

Laxus inhales intensely for a moment before bursting into laughter. He chortles mockingly at the revealed 'fear' of the Demon Mirajane, obviously amused; Mirajane, however, is far from amused. She pushes him away, a mad blush spreading across her cheeks, and goes to the stove.

She could feel his presence looming behind her, but she ignores it and begins to stir the curry with a long, wooden spoon.

Laxus, still chuckling slightly, grabs her wrist and takes the spoon from her hand. She yells in annoyance at his action and tries to snatch the spoon away from him, but his grip is too tight, and she watches in humiliation as he begins to scoop some curry from the pot and slowly bring the spoon to his mouth.

He tastes it unhurriedly, savouring its goodness and looking very impressed, but he immediately clears his face of all emotion before returning the spoon to Mirajane. He lets go of her wrist and paces towards the kitchen door.

"Not bad, but it needs more salt," he voices out, and by the time the door closes, Mirajane is still shell-shocked and speechless at the unforeseen development.

It takes her a full minute to recover, two minutes to remove Laxus's saliva from the spoon, and three to add the salt to that wretched curry.

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_Laxus, X782_

At first, he thinks it's a bundle of white hay on top of an oddly pale hill. This image has been sporadically haunting him in his dreams for a couple of months already, and he doesn't even understand what it is. Two, huge sapphires sit somewhere below the hay and at the bottom of the hill is an upturned curve.

(It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's actually Mirajane's face.)

He's brooding somewhere on the second floor of the guild, and even up here, he could feel the palpable grief stemming from below. It's been a week since Mirajane and Elfman returned from their mission without their youngest sister, and it's been a week since Laxus saw a certain someone's confident smile.

The guild has been dreadfully restrained ever since the Take Over siblings came back from their mission. Mirajane had not spoken a word out loud to anyone, not even a little taunt. Elfman had detached himself from the rest of the boys he used to fight with, and started following her older sister's every visible move. No one talked about it, but it was all they could think of whenever the lifeless forms of the remaining Take Over siblings walked like ghosts in the guild.

No funeral was held; no body was found. There was no sense of closure for any of them.

Laxus plays with the cable of his Sound Pod. He's been itching to comfort Mirajane, but he couldn't think of a way to approach her without seeming insincere. He wants to tell her that he understands what she's feeling, that it's no one's fault this happened, and that wherever Lisanna is right now, she's at peace.

He stands up, perturbed by his thoughts, and decides to get a drink at the bar. He passes by the infirmary and his grandfather's office. A conversation from within the office halts him from going downstairs.

"Master, I have to leave," pleads a voice. Laxus knows it's Mirajane's.

"Has the guild been mistreating you in any way?" asks his grandfather, concern in his voice.

"No! Not at all... It's just...I-I can't perform magic anymore!" Mirajane breaks down in tears and Laxus could hear her trying to control her sobbing.

"What do you mean, Mirajane?" Laxus hears the scraping of a chair and a few footfalls.

"Master, I tried to s-s-summon my Take Over but it just doesn't...d-doesn't..." she trails off.

"You don't have to leave the guild just because you can't use your magic. What about Elfman? Have you considered his thoughts on the matter?" his grandfather inquires kindly. There's a short pause and Laxus imagines Mirajane shaking her head.

"Both you and Elfman still have your own capabilities to use magic, even to a little extent, and it would be more difficult for you to leave and let go of what you have here."

"But Master! What could I even do for the guild now? I've been so mean to everyone else—I'm sure they all think I deserve this!" cries Mirajane. Laxus leans on the wall near the door and shakes his head.

"Surely no one thinks you deserve this, Mirajane. This guild is your family, your home. We all have our sorrows, don't we? Just think of it this way: It's a chance for you to change for the better," says Makarov with authority and gentleness in his tone.

Laxus jolts from his position at the sound of Mirajane's heart-wrenching wails. He balls his hand into a fist and tells himself to calm down.

He doesn't know how long he stays in that pose. All he's aware of is the sound of his grandfather's words washing over him, comforting the Demon Mirajane, discussing the funeral service, and telling her that there's an available spot for the Head Waitress position in the guild. He hears Mirajane burble in response and she takes the offer.

An eternity later, she emerges from the office, eyes faintly red around the edges but with a newfound hope glimmering in them. Her fringe is tied back, but the rest of her hair isn't tied up anymore and it cascades down her shoulders like a protective curtain. She finally notices Laxus standing there and she's taken aback for a moment until he drops his coat around her frame.

"Come on then, waitress. Get me a drink," he orders her in a joking manner and goes to the staircase.

"This fluffy coat should come with the Magic Headphones," Mirajane retorts sweetly. Laxus looks back at her, mildly surprised at her request and her new behaviour. She gestures towards his ears.

"What? I like music, too, you know," she says, batting her eyelashes. Laxus grins at her audacity.

"Get me a drink first," he tells her, and together, they go downstairs to the bar. Everyone hears the laughter coming from Mirajane's mouth, although none of them approaches her. Some are curious as to why Laxus is with her; he doesn't spare them two seconds.

Over the next few months, he stops dreaming about her face, but only because he prefers seeing the real thing much more.

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_Mirajane, X782_

On the latest cover of Sorcerer Magazine is a photo of a striking, bikini-clad woman with her snow white hair framing her smooth face. Mirajane takes a while to identify the person and realise that, of course, it's _her_.

At first, she was worried that agreeing to the contract of serving as a model for the magazine would send the wrong image of who she was and what she stood for. On the other hand, the girls told her to go for it, assuring her that it would be for the benefit of the guild.

Needless to say, she's kind of embarrassed on the day of the issue's release. Her guildmates crowd her and congratulate her on the success of the photo shoot. Most, if not all, praise her skill in showing off her beauty and comment on her charming smile.

She wants to melt, but she only ends up thanking them for their kind words.

_It's too late to regret anything now_, she convinces herself. As long as it makes her guildmates happy, she's happy as well.

The next day, her resolution is broken. A throng of perverted-looking men gather around the bar. Mira recognises none of them, and since she can't see a single guild mark on anyone in the group, she concludes that they're not members of Fairy Tail. She greets them politely and waves hello.

She proceeds to wiping tankards and glasses before placing them in the shelves behind her. The men drool at her presence, and she's tempted to show them her famous 'Demon Eyes.' Unfortunately, she couldn't call for Elfman, because he was away on a mission and hadn't returned yet for a couple of days.

"Mira, look over here!"

"Would you please sign my chest?"

"You're so beautiful, Mira!"

"Can I have a picture with you?"

"_Whoah, those curves!_"

Mirajane huffs patiently, her eyes twinkling with a masked murderous glint. Someone heavily slams a tankard on the counter, obviously vexed by the irksome comments and wolf-whistles.

"These geezers giving you a rough time, Mirajane?"

She sighs thankfully at the disturbance. Mirajane sends Laxus an appreciative look which he doesn't receive because he's too focused on glaring at the gaggle of men. The men begin to recognise him and slowly step away from the bar before completely running away from the guild in fear.

"Thank you, Laxus," she says, putting his tankard away. When she glances at him, she realises he's angry.

Laxus frowns at her and she suddenly feels self-conscious. "What's the matter?" she asks.

"Why'd you do it?" His voice is snippy.

"Do what?" she retorts in a defensive manner. She begins to wipe the countertop after soaking the cloth in tap water with a droplet of lemon-scented dishwashing liquid.

"Sell your body to those magazine idiots," he answers her cuttingly.

Mirajane pauses, her heart throbbing, and she squeezes the cloth in her hand. "Excuse me? I didn't sell my body," she responds with an inhibited voice. Tears begin to pool up in her eyes upon hearing Laxus's accusation.

"What else would you call this?" he remarks angrily as he slaps a copy of the latest issue of Sorcerer Magazine on the wooden surface. Mirajane glimpses the upward curve of her lips on the glossy cover. She vainly tries to recall the sway of the palm trees and the feeling of the roasting sand beneath her toes—right now, there is only the odour of alcohol mixed with sweat and wax, and the sensation of tiny bubbles evaporating between her fingers.

"It's called _modelling_, Laxus. I did it to publicise the guild," she defends herself, a feeling of shame unexpectedly brewing in the pit of her stomach.

"And attract perverts like those? What if they continue to harass you? Would you have the power to stop them?"

A teardrop slides down her cheek. She doesn't stop scrubbing the surface in fear of seeing the look on Laxus's face; she doesn't deserve this kind of treatment! "I'm not that helpless," she protests feebly.

"But you've grown _tolerant_!" he fumes in that pompous way of his.

Mirajane snaps at his words and looks at him with her signature 'Demon Eyes.'

"I'm fine with how I've changed, OK? I had fun at the photo shoot, and I don't need you to scare away people who are interested in joining the guild!"

The guild being talked about is in its happy state of ruckus and no one notices the fiery exchange between the two people at the bar. A short pause stretches between the pair before Laxus stands up and turns away from Mirajane.

"Suit yourself."

Mirajane chokes back a sob at his words. She fears she has said too much; she can't take them back.

Their relationship will never be the same again.

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_Laxus, X784_

He's in an outdoor restaurant somewhere far from Magnolia but still within Fiore. He admits to himself that he's a little concerned over the state of his guild and its members, but he openly scoffs when he hears that his "strong" grandfather was defeated so easily. _Who's so mighty now, eh? _he ponders while dragging a cigarette stick across the table.

"You're the only one we can rely on, Laxus," Mirajane tells him over the communications lacrima crystal. Pride swells in his heart, and it's definitely not the good kind.

"_Please come back_...Fairy Tail's in a pinch," she continues, her voice pleading with a hint of anxiety.

"Serves the old codger right!" he laughs sardonically. He ignores the sad gaze in her eyes, a different quality in those blue pools compared to when she still had her demonic persona. He assures himself that it's better for him to remain distant and unattached.

"That doesn't have anything to do with me," he continues with much scorn, "Handle it yourself."

He sees Mirajane bite her trembling lower lip. He knows she's about to cry and it makes him grip the chair he's sitting on.

"Laxus! You—" Cana blurts out menacingly.

"After all, the old man started this war. Why should I be the one to bail him out?" he drawls, interrupting Cana's threats.

"They're targeting Lucy, one of us," Mirajane answers him, her sadness gone and replaced with a look of steely determination.

"Huh? Who's that?" Laxus tries to attach a face to the name. "Oh, you mean the newbie? Tell her I'll be happy to save her if she becomes my woman and if Cana strips for me!" he makes it a point to laugh again, just to see if Mirajane will show a speck of exasperation.

"I can't believe you!" grumbles Cana.

"Hey, now! Is that any way to speak to someone you're asking help from?" he sneers at her before facing Mirajane. "And tell the old man to hurry up and retire, so that I can _take over_ his position as master," he jokes rudely before laughing for the last time.

He hears a small explosion, as if someone punched the lacrima on the other side of the line, and the connection is cut off.

He ceases his chortling and sobers up immediately. Mirajane was the one who pushed him away before, and he only desired to let her feel the same way he did. Plus, it _is_ that stupid man's fault for declaring war against a powerful guild when he knew he had heart problems.

Laxus effortlessly smashes the cigarette butt into a porcelain ashtray and it shatters into pieces. Some people gawk at him, startled by his action, but he pays them no heed.

(He doesn't feel the bittersweet satisfaction of revenge; he only feels the bitterness of it.)

After contemplating profoundly on his decision, he gets up, leaves a wad of cash on the table, and travels to the nearest music store.

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_Mirajane, X784_

It has been such an emotionally-taxing day for her.

After Laxus had been excommunicated, she felt terrible knowing that he had fallen from his throne in defeat, though at the same time felt immensely relieved that the fighting was over. Now, she wants to do nothing else except to take a long, relaxing bath in her tub filled with hot water and jasmine body wash while listening to some classical pieces of music on her old radio.

Forget about the fact that she was able to unleash Satan Soul again! _Oh_ _goodness, my bones ache_, she yawns audibly on her way home, as she thinks about Elfman who is still in the infirmary, recuperating from his injuries. Stars begin to flicker dimly above the rooftops.

When she reaches her residence, she sees a haphazardly wrapped parcel on the doorstep. With burning curiosity, she picks it up and sees a note glued on top.

_Green isn't my colour._

Confused, she puts the package under her armpit, unlocks the door, goes inside the house, and carefully peels the wrapping off by the time she reaches her bedroom.

She's flabbergasted when she sees a brand new pair of green, Lacrima Model Magic Headphones inside a plastic box.

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_Laxus, X784_

He doesn't understand why someone who is supposedly dead is right in front of him. _Maybe it's one of the side effects of battle_, he hypothesises as he pinches Lisanna's cheeks.

"Whaaat are you doooing?" Lisanna stammers at him, quite dismayed at his odd action.

Laxus pats her repeatedly (and quite painfully) on the head. "Eh...I was wondering if it was really you."

"Of course it's really me! How rude!" she yelps.

"Getting picked on all the time...I feel sorry for you," jests Evergreen, not sounding sorry at all.

"What insight! Laxus is impressive!" comments Fried in that creepily admiring way of his while Bickslow doesn't seem to agree with his sentiment.

His subordinates probably don't truly understand why he's acting that way. Even _he _isn't sure why he's making a fool out of himself, although he doesn't try to stop.

Maybe it's because he thinks Mirajane is observing his antics. When they reach home, she's going to reprimand him for picking on her sister; he'll provoke her in return, and then they'll be friends again. Friends, or whatever the hell their relationship was called before he became a complete arse.

Lisanna pushes his arms away and he takes that brief moment to sneak a peek at Mirajane's reaction. He doesn't catch her eye—she's too preoccupied with fetching drinks for everyone else.

"Laxus, what are you gaping at?" Lisanna's voice registers in his mind, and it takes him a while to tear his eyes off Mirajane's figure. Lisanna follows his line of sight and giggles.

"Are you staring at Mira-nee?" she teases him. The rest of Laxus's cronies listen with blank faces reflecting their perplexed emotions.

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Of course not," he denies coolly.

"Hm...I always did wonder how she ended up with a pair of those expensive Magic Headphones similar to the ones you wore often. You sure you didn't give them to her?" Lisanna teases, cheekily waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Nope."

She sighs, overcome by his apathy. "If you say so."

"Though there's one thing you should know first," says Laxus in an awfully different tone; it is something serious. The youngest Strauss sibling tilts her head to show that she's listening.

"You have no idea how much you mean to your sister, so don't you dare try to scare her like that ever again."

Lisanna is about to reply to his somewhat vague statement when the ominous sound of a dragon's roar reverberates throughout the entire island.

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_Mirajane, X791_

She hasn't set foot inside Kardia Cathedral in over seven years. Granted, she was frozen in time after that apocalyptic dragon had attacked Tenrou Island, but she feels like it's been forever.

If truth be told, Mirajane doesn't feel entirely remorseful after beating up the members of Twilight Ogre, yet she still feels a little apprehensive over using her magic to inflict pain on others. This continuous personal struggle has always been one of the reasons why she had started listening to the sermons of the ministers of Zentopia; they've constantly given her the assurance that whatever action will be forgiven and can be a stepping stone for a more ethical kind of deed.

She slips into one of the pews at the back, knowing that she's late, and she starts to catch the words of the preacher.

"_Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment—"_

"The last time I was in this cathedral, I was ruthless."

Mirajane snaps her head to her left and sees Laxus. He takes a seat beside her, seemingly untroubled by the disbelief and astonishment on Mirajane's face.

She regains her composure and beams at him. "You've changed since then."

He places the paper bag he's been holding down on the floor. "I'm not really sure if we're supposed to offer anything, so I bought this from that dessert cafe which Erza recommended."

"You saw Erza?"

"Yeah. She told me you were going here."

"Oh."

She tries to concentrate on the sermon, but her mind keeps going back to the mystery dessert in Laxus's paper bag which, frankly, doesn't seem like a proper offering. Noontime sunshine filters through the stained glass windows, spraying them in beads of colours and in arrays of frolicking hues, reminiscent of the organs of a kaleidoscope.

"You think these priests would eat kuzumochi?" inquires Laxus in a casual manner.

Mirajane brusquely inhales and folds her hands. "I know I would," she mumbles dreamily.

"You could have it if you want it," Laxus shrugs.

"What? No!"

"I don't see anyone else in here with paper bags on the floor," he insists.

She bites her lip and slowly takes his offering from his fingers. "Thank you," she says demurely. "I can't help it...This is my favourite."

"No problem."

For the rest of the sermon, she pretends not to notice Laxus's smirk directed towards her.

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_Laxus, X791_

Without trouble, he punches an unknown member from another team and steals a piece of a map from his opponent. _So far, so good_, he thinks to himself as he tosses the item to Juvia.

They haven't even been stuck inside the Sky Labyrinth for more than three minutes when Jellal (a.k.a. Mystogan) rapidly disseminates his strategy to the rest of his teammates, and they proceed to beat up the rest of the contestants in order to steal their maps, much to the delight of Gajeel.

The entire maze begins to spin vertically, and he hears Mirajane cry out in alarm.

Not wasting another second, Laxus swiftly runs to her just as she loses her footing and slips off the edge of her path. He skids to the edge on his knees, grabs her arm, and pulls her up.

"Thank you, Laxus," she murmurs breathlessly once they're both on their feet again. "That caught me by surprise," she exhales as she puts a hand to her cheek. Mages fall from the network of paths like dead flies sliding down a wall.

He doesn't say anything and waits until his heart rate goes back to normal. He's not sure why, but the thought of her plummeting to the ground and turning into a flattened snowflake scared the hell out of him.

"Next time, maybe you could use Satan Soul and fly back," suggests Jellal, observing the duo with interest.

Mirajane shrugs apologetically and smiles at Laxus. "I should have thought of that."

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_Mirajane, X791_

It's past ten in the evening and yet she still hasn't made a move to leave the bar. The calendar tacked to the bulletin board currently displays the month of July in columns and rows of days and numbers. Some chairs have already been stacked on a few tables, but the majority of the area is still bustling with activity.

Tomorrow, she will be going on a mission to break Lucy out of jail. Whether or not the other team will win the Grand Magic Games, she has no reason to hold back, not when her guildmate's innocence is at stake.

"Here's your Earl Grey Tea, little miss," says the bartender as he puts the cup in front of her.

"Thank you very much," she responds warmly. Steam swirls from the beverage like the patterns on the china. She takes a sip and closes her tired eyes.

"Did you follow me here?" a gruff voice jokes from behind.

Mirajane lazily opens one eye and sees the shadow of a very tall and muscled man. _Laxus_, she muses.

"I'm just here to relax before tomorrow comes," she responds before taking another sip.

Laxus takes a seat beside her on one of those spindly chairs although he's facing the other side. "You're going to be alright."

"I know."

The following moments pass in comfortable silence between the two of them, with only the clinking of glasses and cups serving as their background music. Mirajane starts to hum a tune she's always been fond of, as she lightly drums her fingers on the wood.

"I have that song with me."

Mirajane presses her lips together. She obscurely remembers having sung it to him someplace else, a long time ago. "Maybe we have the same taste in music?" she questions him. The memory gradually comes back to her, and she tries not to be embarrassed upon recalling her past attitude.

She watches Laxus fish for something in his huge coat, and when he withdraws his Sound Pod, she observes him more closely.

"Here," he gently places one of the "pods" in her ear, and puts the other in his. When a voice begins to croon, she puts a hand to her mouth.

_Childhood living is easy to do  
__The things you wanted, I bought them for you  
__Graceless lady, you know who I am  
__You know I can't let you slide through my hands_

"I can't believe you recorded my performance..."

Laxus hushes her by putting a finger to his lips.

_I watched you suffer a dull aching pain  
__Now you decided to show me the same  
__No sweeping exits or offstage lines  
__Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind_

She buries her face in her hands, seeking refuge in the prints of her palms. When the song finishes, she sighs wearily and returns the other headphone to Laxus, who is leaning against the counter with his elbows propped up on the surface.

"Why were you so...so..._sweet _to me back then?" whispers Mirajane. She rubs her neck, quite flushed.

"I saw a part of myself in you," he admits with an air of moderation, avoiding her eyes.

She blinks, baffled by his answer. The bartender, who is apparently eavesdropping on their conversation, gives a low whistle and mumbles a word she doesn't catch.

The clock strikes eleven and the sound of a tinkling bell resonates within the room.

"Oh, we should head back before midnight!" gasps Mirajane. She leaves a tip under the dish of her cup just as she stands up and dusts herself off. Laxus rises as well and nods to the bartender who salutes in return. Together, they walk towards the doors and exit the bar. The carved flower on the sign above their heads absorbs the light of the moon, saying goodbye in its own way. Who knows if they'll ever return?

"Do you usually walk home, knowing that you can't stand transportation?"

Laxus rolls his eyes at her question. "Either that, or I turn myself into lightning."

His answer makes her titter and she tries to stifle the sound by putting her hand over her mouth. Her companion remains unaffected.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" she questions further.

"I'm always ready."

At this, she smiles to herself. The cobblestone road winds ahead of them, and although the darkness enshrouds a great chunk of the path, she feels perfectly safe with him at her side. They are bathed in the moonlight, the lamplight, and in the shadows of the vast clouds.

When they reach their dormitory, Laxus escorts her to the new room which she booked for her and her siblings after their two-front strategy had been discussed amongst themselves. She knocks on the large door, a small yawn escaping her mouth which she muffles with her other hand.

"Don't you have a key?" asks Laxus. Mirajane shakes her head.

"I forgot that I already placed it in my other dress for tomorrow," she explains. She knocks again but to no avail—she only gets a loud snore in response.

"Oh dear, Elfman's out cold, and Lisanna is probably sound asleep, too. Maybe I shouldn't disturb them," she says inaudibly.

"If that's the case, where will you sleep?" he inquires with a hint of concern.

"I'm sure Master will give me some room in his bed," she jokes.

Laxus unfolds his arms and looks stoically at her. "No way am I letting you near that old geezer while he's in dreamland. You could stay in my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

Mirajane laughs softly at his remark, gesturing for him to lead the way. "Thank you for your offer."

Laxus nods once and walks ahead of her, like a knight going before the one he has to protect. Mirajane calmly follows after him, grateful for his proposition. Of all the things Laxus had done for her in the past and in the present, this one takes the cake.

They reach the tall door to his room and he takes a key from the side pocket of his pants. The door unlocks with a tiny click when he turns the key in the hole. He pushes the door open and lets Mirajane go inside first.

The first thing she sees when he turns the lights on is a knitted portrait of wild horses, hanging on the wall across the door.

"Ours has a painting of a watermelon," she comments happily. Laxus shows the tiniest of smiles as he tosses his coat on the large maroon divan near another door, most likely leading to the bathroom.

"The bed's over there," he points to the king size, four poster bed situated near the wide window. Mirajane scrutinises its dimensions, and frowns.

"It's big enough to fit both you and Elfman!"

Laxus merely snorts at her comment. She's definitely not lying.

"And I don't think you can sleep comfortably on that sofa. I'll sleep on the left side of the bed, and you'll sleep on the right. We'll put a fortress of throw pillows in between if you want to act courteous," suggests Mirajane who has begun to collect the pillows from the couch. She walks to the bed and lines the pillows in the middle, giving equal spaces for both the left and the right sides.

"There's no point in arguing with you, Mira," Laxus rubs his head in slight exasperation. "Just make sure you get the blanket."

When Mirajane finishes fixing their sleeping arrangements, she sits down on her side of the bed and takes her shoes off, as well as the rest of the ribbons adorning her body; the last thing she removes is the band keeping her fringe tied above her forehead, and she carefully puts it on top of the small cabinet near the bedpost. Laxus walks to his side and gracelessly kicks his shoes off. He's the first to lie down, although he's facing the window.

"Good night, Laxus," whispers Mira who is lying on her side, facing the other way.

"G'night," he grunts. Mirajane reaches out to switch the lamp off, and the room is covered in darkness.

The next morning, an hour after dawn, the whole dormitory is awakened by the bellow of a certain man.

"_WHERE'S MY SISTER?!"_

Mirajane's eyelids open by a fraction and she sees herself entangled in a mass of pillows, sheets, and most importantly, the broad arms of Laxus. She takes no notice of her strange position and buries herself further into his warm embrace, falling asleep instantly. Laxus responds by tightening his grip around her, possibly oblivious to whatever he's hugging—that is, until his lips lift up mischievously.

Twenty minutes later, Fried, Bickslow, and Evergreen break the door open and it slams against the wall.

"Laxus, have you seen Mirajane?!"

"Elfman says she's missing—"

"Holy Mavis, she's in his bed!"

Mirajane seems unaware of whatever is happening, but she visibly pouts at the lack of warmth when Laxus releases his grip. He rises from his position and rubs his sleepy eyes, ignoring the thunderstruck expressions on his bodyguards' faces.

He gives them a stony look with eyes half closed, and they slowly inch away from the room. He shuts the door once they've left and approaches the sleeping figure of Mirajane, deciding against joining her once more.

Covering her with the blanket, he exhales sharply and turns to follow after the trio. He's going to have to explain to them how Mirajane was locked out of her room, and let them guess the rest of the story.

"_Stay safe,_" a tender whisper reaches his ears and he stops just as he's about to turn the knob.

"You too," he responds, and then he is gone.

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_A/N: There you have it! Please let me know your thoughts by leaving a review. Also, for those who support the Zeref/Mavis pairing, I have a multi-chapter fic entitled _Moonbeam _which will be updated pretty soon. Thank you for taking the time to read my work. ^_^_


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